i walk away from the soundless room~

[focusedvoid]

 (art by juvehiir)

 

The Shining City knows the Prin well. Significantly better than the Hallowed Heir, who keeps to the Palace nearly as much as Hallownest’s King. It’s not half as much of an event when they’re seen striding through the streets, escorted by none. They’re the one who escorts others, at times; Marissa in particular, after she gained a little too much attention in turn by their initial visit, or other such shopkeepers who found a surge in popularity after finding a royal customer. 

 

Thankfully, the worst of the dramatics and kowtowing tapered off as time went by. These days, Prin Ghost is given the occasional bow and a far more common wave, but barely any second glances.

 

Just as they wished.

And entertaining to everyone involved. 

 

Tucked within their cloak-wings, a good half of their brood clings, unknown to all but the most observant of passerby. Fuzz tickles with their silent laughter.

 

They wander with half a plan, furry heads popping out at their signals to observe and hide again. There's only a little rain to shake off afterwards. (A little? It's still plenty. Prin Ghost is used to such phantom considerations.)

An excellent game.

Comments

[focusedvoid]

"It won't hurt them," the Prin signs vaguely, sitting back.

Pepper immediately plops down to sit on Quirrel's palm and starts tracing around his eye. With their paws. And their snoot. Whatever that accomplishes is known only to them.

Za lightly swings the head-scarf behind Cinna's head. They try to grab it without letting go of the finger they're chewing, which fails utterly. They don't care about it, and it vanises soon after.

Powder puts a palm against Quirrel's mask too, but peers upward, obviously already thinking about climbing higher. "Antennae," they pull back to say, pointing to their own that fluff out to look like a trio of such at the roots, and then to his significantly smaller and more average set.

The rest are watching with heavy interest. Burnet leans forward enough that they tip over, clinging to Za's knee-joint upside-down now. Ghost lifts their leg and wiggles it softly, watching their wings flutter indignantly, a common game. Quickly distracted, the others start to find places to hold onto.

[oxydatum]

"Marvellous," he remarks, quite offhandedly, and very quiet so that his voice doesn't spook the little one patting around his face. It's reassuring to hear they won't be harmed, but he doesn't look like he's keen on letting them fall regardless.

All of this is quite the privilege, but perhaps it would be even if the family wasn't royal.

Since Powder asked - or, at least, compared - Quirrel tilts his head forward a bit and lowers both antennae down almost to their level, waggling them just overhead.

"Not quite as impressive I'm afraid, but as functional as any." He squints, then, at Powder's, and concedes: "As most."

He addresses Ghost, though he doesn't look away from the little ones and only a very slight tone shift will tell.

"I've never seen the like," and quickly: "which I intend entirely as flattery. Forgive my curiosity but I don't believe I'm sharp enough to determine the other lucky parent...?" Unspoken: he has no idea how these genetics have happened, much like most. Though unlike some he's opted to ask in the most ordinary way possible.

[focusedvoid]

Powder takes that as permission to flicker their wings and flutter up to land between antennae, turning to examine them from the top. Their Za thinks it's funny even as they shimmy forward, freeing their claws from Cinna's grip and pulling out a shiny silver ring of metal to gnaw instead.

"A steadfast member of the Moth Tribe, I'm sure you've observed that much. Unless you've visited the Palace quite recently, you are unlikely to have met the specific individual." Dear Hazewing shies away from being too known. Ghost doesn't blame him.

[oxydatum]

He's looking at them without turning his head too much. There are little Voidmoths perched on him that he doesn't want to disturb, even for politeness' sake.

"Now, that would be hard to miss! Yes, I gathered that much." Quirrel laughs lightly. A name is too much to ask then, or they'd have said. He doesn't pursue it. "I'm afraid my visits to the Palace are infrequent. I am to remain at the Madam's call as well, and that does keep me busy. Socialising hasn't made it onto my list as of yet!"

His antennae twitch back up into place, fidgeting once before going still.

"Be careful up there. I'm not used to being a platform."

Quirrel cups behind Pepper with the hand they're not standing on, and resumes fussing at their fluff with one thumb.

He is doing a remarkable job at holding very still.

[focusedvoid]

Prin Ghost is rustling their legs together, feeling their little voidmoths skittering around more than watching.

"I don't blame you. It's a poor place visit often, and worse to socialize at." Trust them, they live there. Or perhaps that's a better reason not to trust them...? They're desensitized to the grandeur of the place, and most to encounter are either awestruck worshippers of the King on important mission, or the King himself and his family. The Prin loves their Siblings, certainly, but the rest they can take or leave.

(And oftentimes, they leave.)

Powder sits down between the antennae, sticking their paws out to Pepper, who grabs on instinct and gets yanked up Quirrel's face with wild leg- and wing-flailing.